


Scraping By

by ErUhThrowaway



Category: Clone High
Genre: Gun Violence, he's also ooc sorry, i did a SHIT ton of research on gunshot wounds for this, jackie boy gets shot, no beta we die like ponce, so it's as realistic as i can get it, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErUhThrowaway/pseuds/ErUhThrowaway
Summary: jack gets shot, that's all
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Scraping By

**Author's Note:**

> i did so much research for this my brain hurts
> 
> my boy just needs a hug tbh
> 
> also i didn't want to explore anything abt who shot him but it's probably someone he pissed off or some weird history buff that hates clones idk my guys think what u want
> 
> aight bye

most of the clones at clone high had an idea of how they wanted to die. some wanted to die naturally, some wanted to die doing something heroic, and some just simply wanted to live longer than their clone parents. this was such a highly discussed topic, that it was surprising no one quite knew how jfk wanted to die.

despite being questioned multiple times, he would never give a straight answer. eventually, he just said he wanted to go out with a lot of good looking girls around him, and everyone seemed pretty satisfied with that answer. pretty in character, right?

but, if he was being honest, jfk really, _really_ wanted to die like his clone father.

sure, he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but it wasn’t like he was suicidal or anything. he really enjoyed the idea of living up to that tragic legacy, even if he wasn’t able to do it in his own life. he didn’t have a plan for when it would happen, but he knew that when his time came, that’s exactly how he wanted to go out.

on the other hand, it felt… more than a little bit wrong to wish for the same untimely death as the original jfk. to wish for the same death as your clone parent was considered a taboo concept at clone high. yet, even though he knew this, jfk always had that idea in the back of his mind. the idea that if he died like his clone father, he would be more like him. he would live up to his legacy, and maybe he would regret a little less when he died if he got this one thing right.

he didn’t know how, but he wanted it to happen.

so, as he was walking into his house from his car, and as a shot of hot pain bloomed in his shoulder, jack only had one thought:

_i guess i’m ok with this_

it was late evening and he’d just gotten home from being at the mall with some friends. he was alone, and as he pulled out his house keys, he heard the shot. he jerked back at something hitting his shoulder. it didn’t even hurt, but for some strange reason, he collapsed, unable to move his arm.

when he started to fall to the ground, of course there was a split second of panic. every thought one might have if they got shot in the shoulder crossed his mind. _what just happened? am i dying? did i do everything i wanted to do? did i make people happy? will people remember me when i’m gone? i didn’t even live as long as he did._

for a split second, everything was painless except for the heat in his shoulder. then it all came rushing in, and he could hardly move.

he didn’t even know who was doing this to him. was it someone he knew? was it a friend, or someone who hated his guts? maybe it didn’t matter. the least they could do was show their face. or maybe it was better they didn’t. after all, his clone father never knew either, did he?

then again, he was probably dying slower than his clone father had. having time to reflect was a luxury his predecessor never got to have.

he couldn’t move his right arm. he’d stopped screaming, and instead his breathing becomes ragged and panicked as he holds his shoulder with his left arm. tears prick at his eyes, not of sadness, but of pain. it was... excruciating, to say the very fucking least.

jfk could hardly think, but he wondered how his clone parent would greet him in the afterlife. would he be proud of him? would he wish he’d done better? he was still just 16, he didn’t know if he had a story to leave behind. would he be remembered as just the failed clone of jfk, or something more? would they just clone him all over again and forget about him?

blood pooled around him, and finally, it seemed like someone showed up. he could barely make out the form of his foster dads above him, and as his vision became more and more blurry, as he faded in and out of consciousness, he feels one of them turn him over, applying pressure to his wound.

he grunts in pain, breathing heavily. they’re saying something, but he can’t make it out. he grows more panicked - he doesn’t want to be saved. he doesn’t want to lose this opportunity; he might not even want to wake up again.

jack hears sirens growing closer, and feels a warm hand cupping his cheek. as he blacks out, he registers tears running down his face and shouting.

\--

when jack wakes up, his eyes take a moment to focus on the dim room he’s in. he’s alone, completely alone.

he glances around, confused, and then he remembers.

oh yeah, he got shot. and lived.

that wasn’t how it was supposed to go. but it looks like this is where he's at now.

he can’t help but sit there, beginning to be overwhelmed by the idea that he may have lost his chance to end up like his clone father. maybe it was a good thing, or maybe it wasn’t, but for now, all jack could do was sit, tears rolling down his cheeks.


End file.
